


I Really Can't Stay

by wonderfulwizardofthozz



Series: 12 Fics of Christmas [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 12 fics of Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, I'm trying to do a 12 fics of Christmas challenge, also their grandkids, but the character in question was dead before the start of the fic, on the first fic of Christmas my true love gave to me...angst with a happy ending!, technically this is major character death, thanks Cleokat!, their kids are in it for a few seconds, there's art!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulwizardofthozz/pseuds/wonderfulwizardofthozz
Summary: It's Marinette's first Christmas without Adrien, and she stops by their home to find some solace at his piano...(With art by Cleokat!)





	I Really Can't Stay

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely art in the middle is by [Cleokat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleokat/pseuds/Cleokat)! Go check her out!

Everything was white.

The streets, the rooftops, her hair, the sheets on the furniture...everything.

 _He had died in the spring, taking the last memories of color with him._ (She later recalled how little green there was that entire year, but only when the ache had lessened.)

Now, months later, the so-called eccentric Madame Agreste was spending her first Christmas well and truly alone. Her children and their spouses and their children were scattered around the globe, as were her friends. The rest of her family was gone or nowhere close. Her company had long since been handed down, as had her miraculous. She was...alone.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d come home; they’d barely been here in their married life, always going off on some adventure or another with their children or each other unless they were tucked away at work. The house was a place to sleep and regroup, but it was hardly a home on its own.

He had been what made it home for her.

His laughter, his warmth, his sunshine...but without him, everything was cold and pale.

She wandered around the house, footsteps echoing around the lifeless rooms. Distant sounds of holiday traffic filtered in through the windows.

She paused when she saw his piano, memories flooding in.

She’d learned a song for him just last Christmas. She wasn’t very musically inclined, but she knew she could do it to surprise him if she just got creative enough. (There had been another elderly man in her bridge group who played piano for the symphony for many years, and he was more than willing to help her surprise her husband.)

_What if…_

She pushed the white sheet off the black piano, the heavy cloth gathering around its base with a _whoosh_. She opened the lid and sat down on the bench, adjusted her posture to something close to correct, and tested the keys out to see how softly she could play while still making noise. When she was satisfied with it, she started to slowly play the first few notes. Her voice was quiet and broken when she got to her entrance and sang, “I really can’t stay…”

She filled in Adrien’s line on the piano, remembering how his eyes lit up when he sat next to her that Christmas morning. _But, baby, it’s cold outside._

“I’ve got to go away.” _But, baby, it’s cold outside!_

“This evening has been…” _Been hoping that you’d drop in…_ “so very nice…” _I’ll hold your hands; they’re just like ice._ (He’d put his hands over hers right then, making her lose her place and play a few wrong notes that she’d laughed off because of _course_ he’d do something like that.)

“The neighbors might think.” _Baby, it's bad out there._

“Say, what's in this drink?” _No cabs to be had out there!_

“I wish I knew how…”

_Your eyes are like starlight now…_

(How often had he said something like that to her? Only on their first date—and most dates after. Then when they got married, and then when she gave birth to their children. On every anniversary, real and imagined...on their last night together...)

“t-to break this...sp-spell…” Marinette stopped playing, sobs overcoming her. Her tears fell to the ivory keys when they slipped through her fingers.

_Art by[Cleokat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleokat/pseuds/Cleokat) — check her out! _

For what felt like forever, her cries echoed off the white walls that mourned with her. Her voice eventually dropped to a desperate whisper, “Adrien, why did you have to go? Why did you have to leave?”

The front door opened, startling her so she called out, “Hello?”

“Maman? Is that you? What are you doing here so soon?”

“It’s me, I’m in the living room. I was just visiting.” Marinette wiped her tears away and sat in her place until her children shuffled into view, their families trailing behind them. She stared, trying to make sense of them being there, colors blurring together. “What are you doing here at all?”

Emma cleared her throat and spoke up. “Well, we knew when you didn’t want to come to Christmas with any of us that you’d end up here, so we thought we’d surprise you, but it looks like you beat us to it.”

“I...I guess I did, yeah.”

Hugo raised an eyebrow, his expression identical to one his father would’ve made. “Were you crying, Maman?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Just playing something I learned for your father last year and I got emotional.”

Louis smiled at her. “Play it for us?”

“Oh, no. I’m not talented like he was.”

One of the littlest ones, unable to stay still any longer, ran up and sat beside her, all decked out in a green sweater that matched his eyes—Adrien’s eyes. “Play for us, Grammy.”

Marinette looked at him for a long moment, a bittersweet smile growing on her face. “Well, if you insist. But you can’t make fun of me for being bad, you hear?” She bopped her grandson on the nose and cleared her own throat. “You all ready?”

When everybody assured her that they were, she started the song again, voice stronger than before. “I really can’t stay...”

This time, instead of empty notes, everybody who knew the words filled in the part. “But, baby, it’s cold outside.”

Marinette’s smile grew wider as she continued the song through to the end.

Her family applauded when she finished, all their bright colors and laughter filling in the empty space.

No, Adrien couldn't stay, but he would never leave the warmth of their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> So, um...Merry Christmas! It's actually Thanksgiving here in the States, so Happy Thanksgiving! I wanted to start us out with a healthy dose of angst and sadness and I may or may not have cried writing this. Please direct all emotions to the box below (and compliment [Cleokat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleokat/pseuds/Cleokat) because I just love her drawing oh my gosh).
> 
> Love you all~  
> xoxo -wwot


End file.
